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RAGS AND VELVET GOWNS. 


















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Copyright , 1894, 

By A. G. Plympton, 


2&rttoersttg ^ress: 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S. A 


TO 

ARTHUR AND ELEANOR BURTON 
®fjts ILtttle 33aofe 


IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 
































RAGS AND VELVET GOWNS. 


PART I. 


great deal of 
baby to grow 
district of 
Kingsland called Kingsland 
Mills, where the Martins lived. There 
was always an embarrassing surplus of 
children in this neighborhood, and in- 
stead of being welcomed with poetical 



8 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

rapture, as flowers from Heaven, as with 
parents whose circumstances admit of 
sentiment, a child was accepted with 
anxiety and the prosaic remark, “ Well, 
here ’s another one to do for.” It is to 
be hoped the little creature was not 
deceived by this phrase into the ex- 
pectation of being done for in any com- 
fortable sense, for before it could learn 
to know its mother’s face she would be 
forced to leave it and go back to her 
work in the mill. Just as likely as not 
it would cut its teeth on broken crock- 
ery, and take its morning walks almost 
under the horses’ feet in the streets. It 
must look forward to an ill-fed, over- 
tasked childhood, and an after life of 
constant work and worry. 

It was upon a world of this sorry sort 
that Silly Willy first opened his brave, 
brown eyes. He was a rarely strong 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 


9 



and handsome child ; but when he was 
laid in his mother’s arms she cried fee- 
bly, saying that he would never have a 
fair chance in life, and would grow up 
to blame her for bringing him into the 
world. The poor little girl-mother had 
taken care of herself ever since she was 


10 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

twelve years old, and was worn out with 
work. The doctor said that if she val- 
ued her life she must now rest quiet a 
while before going back to her place in 
the mill; but however we may be in 
need of rest, our expenses never take 
a vacation, and in a short time Mary 
was standing again over her loom. 

Willy's father was what he himself 
styled an agitator, and his business was 
to make every one as unhappy and dis- 
satisfied as possible. He was a great 
deal more successful in this than in his 
former work at the mill, where he had 
been employed in the repairing shop ; 
but his greatest successes were in his 
own family. His mother-in-law declared 
that he was an “ out and out bad un,” 
and this nobody ever denied. He drank, 
he swore, he quarrelled with his neigh- 
bors, abused his wife, and taught his 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 1 1 

son to dodge a blow by the time he was 
a toddling two-year-old. Willy never 
knew his father by any other name 
than “the bad un.’ 

The same year that Willy was born, 
a little hemlock- tree pricked through 
the hard-trampled earth of the enclosure 
in front of Tim Martin’s cottage. It 
was the only hemlock in that part of 
the town (Willy’s Christmas-tree, the 
children called it) ; and the wonder is 
how it had ever sprung up in that ap- 
parently unfavorable spot, and having 
sprung up should persevere and grow 
there. 

Old Tim and his wife (Willy’s grand- 
parents), were very proud of the hemlock, 
considering themselves complimented 
that it had singled out their yard among 
their neighbors, as its growing place. 

“ Some year we ’ll have a fine Christ- 


12 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

mas-tree of it for the lad,” Tim would 
say. 

“ Some year ” meant the long delayed 
prosperous year of Tim’s expectation 
that would make any additional expense 
possible. It had never come, it never 
would come ; but this foolish yet wise 
hope of it had given him strength to 
cross the dry, feverish desert of the poor 
man’s life, whose pleasant oases exist 
only in the imagination. 

Between Willy and the little tree 
there seemed some mysterious link, — 
some identity of being that showed 
itself in an apparent determination on 
the part of each to overcome difficulties, 
and to beautify and cheer the ugly cor- 
ner of the world in which they chanced 
to find themselves. 

Notwithstanding poor soil and want 
of culture, the tree had a better chance 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 13 

in life than the boy. Each summer it 
spread its branches under the hot sun- 
shine, and its balsamic breath sweetened 
the neighborhood. Such songs as it 
sang in the soft south wind were never 
heard else in the rough turmoil of 
Kingsland Mills. It sang its message 
of peace into the hot hearts of the 
weary working people passing and re- 
passing; and who stopped sometimes 
with a smile to say, “ Well, Silly Willy’s 
Christmas-tree ’s a-growin’ finely.” 

They were right. Each year the 
tree made a wonderful growth. It grew 
all through those terrible months when 
the mill was closed and men were des-. 
perate from want of work ; and the 
children became familiar with those old 
dreaded enemies of their class, hunger 
and cold. While the fever raged that 
carried away Willy’s mother, still the 


14 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

tree grew. Even in that cruel time 
when Willy met with the accident that 
crippled him, and he lay so long moan- 
ing and shuddering with pain, the tree 
kept on growing; and when at length 
he was able to creep out into the sun- 
shine again, it over-topped him by many 
inches. 

From a physical point of view, there 
was now no longer any likeness between 
the hardy young tree and the poor little 
cripple ; but the same spirit seemed to 
animate both, for both were still vigor 
ously determined to make the best of 
things. 

It was impossible that Willy should 
ever be very strong again ; the rosiness 
and beauty of his sturdy boyhood was 
gone, and also — what was far sadder 
— the bright look of ready intelli- 
gence, leaving a far-away expression, not 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 15 

foolish, but as if the spirit dwelt apart 
in a world of* its own. It must have 
been a different sort of world from 
that in which his quarrelsome neighbors 
lived ; for when he smiled, and for a 
moment his spirit seemed to return, it 
came in a radiance of peace and good- 
will. This must have been what Grand- 
father Martin meant when he said Willy 
had a rare Christmas smile. A tenderer 
and more delicate beauty replaced the 
splendor of health and vigor he had lost, 
and his white face, in its frame of silky, 
flaxen hair had the softness and purity 
of a pearl. 

Although they felt kindly toward 
him, the mill people unhesitatingly pro- 
nounced him an “ underwit ; ” but the 
children thought him wise. They learned 
of him secrets of Nature ; and they fol- 
lowed him in troops, drawn by the l<^e 


1 6 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

that brimmed in his simple heart. 
Every Sunday or holiday one might see 
a procession of them filing through the 
fields with Silly Willy at its head, his 
flaxen hair blowing in the wind, and his 
white face set toward the mountains ; 
and here they would stay with him, con 
tentedly, t all day long. As for Willy, 
he was happiest with these simple com- 
panions, surrounded by the harmonies 
of Nature. 

Willy never talked very much, but 
he sang to himself in a low, contented, 
murmurous way like the tree. Some- 
times he would break out in a song of 
a few clear, beautiful notes ; but his 
grandmother discouraged these out- 
bursts, which she said were “ terribul 
onhealthy to hear.” 

All beautiful things gave Grandmother 
Martin what she called “ the creeps,” 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 17 

but nothing so much so as the exquisite 
sweetness of Silly Willy’s voice. It 
quivered through the old woman’s heart 
and softened it so that it was with the 
greatest difficulty she could go on scold- 
ing poor old Tim, which was the main 
pleasure of her life. 

Even the humblest of us have our 
little pride, which is the pinch of salt in 
our otherwise tasteless porridge. Tim 
Martin’s pride was in his wife’s unflag- 
ging tongue. He was a quiet old fel- 
low himself, finding it difficult to express 
half the thoughts that floated vaguely 
through his brain, and he always listened 
with delighted admiration while his wife 
scolded him. 

“ Listen to that now ! ” sometimes he 
would say to Willy, nodding brightly 
toward his wife. “ She ’s ben a-goin’ 
on like that fur more ’n an hour, an’ 


1 8 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

nothin’ fur a subject but an old fool 
man like me. I ’low she ’d beat the 
parsons.” 

Such complimentary remarks never 
gratified Grandmother Martin, whose 
purpose was to stir up an humble spirit 
of contrition ; but the longer she scolded, 
the prouder was Tim. 

After Willy’s mother died, “ the bad 
un ” declared he was going to start over 
again with a fresh deal : whereupon he 
left his son with his grandparents, and 
married again, — a brawny Irish woman 
this time, — and settled down cosily into 
drunken idleness. 

Thenceforth whatever troubles befell 
Willy “ the bad un ” had no part in 
them, and that is saying a great deal 
for a father in Kingsland Mills. 

His grandfather was a gentle old man 
who loved him all the more for his mis- 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 19 

fortunes. Through good fortune and 
ill, or rather through ill fortune,' and 
that which was not so ill, Tim Martin 
bore himself meekly, with that pathetic 
air of patient endurance observable in 
old men, to whom life has been cruel 
Among his sullen, discontented fellow- 
workmen, mild old Timothy seemed in 
the frequent times of trouble like a 
cheerful cricket chirping on a cold 
hearthstone. 

Not far from the Martins’ house was 
the mill, — a great ugly building where 
the wheels roared and rumbled all day 
long. Inside, the noise was so great 
that no matter how hard you screamed, 
you never could make any one hear 
you. The loose cotton fibre filled the 
air, and the sickening smell of the oil 
used about the machinery pervaded 
the building. 


20 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

Grandfather Martin had grown old 
and nearly blind in this mill, yet he 
was as poor now as when in his boy- 
hood he had first set to work there ; for 
the little he was able to save in busy 
seasons always melted away (as the 
working-man’s savings do) in the hard 
times when wages are lowered or the 
mills are closed. There were hundreds 
of men and women at work there. Some 
— a very few — were thrifty, but they 
were nevertheless poor. Most of them 
were discontented ; many were quarrel- 
some ; and all, or nearly all, very 
ignorant. 

Early one autumn morning, old Mar- 
tin and his grandson were making their 
way to the mill, which stood dark and 
grim against the glowing sky of the 
east. There was a film over Tim’s eyes 
that dimmed the beauty of the morning; 


21 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

but Willy saw the dewy fields in all 
their gloss and glitter as they stretched 
under the morning sunshine, away to 
the dark-plumed hills. The mountain 
breeze blew fresh and cool, but the 
operatives were hurrying into the mill, 
and Tim in his uncomplaining submis- 
sion, and Willy with his bright cheer- 
fulness, followed them. 

Whiz — whir ! Already the steam was 
turning those giant wheels till the floor 
seemed to rock under the jar of the 
machinery. Willy began to gather the 
empty spindles, smiling his sweet lumi- 
nous smile at one of the girls who jostled 
against him in her hurry to reach her 
machine. The day’s work had begun. 

It was half after six. At noon there 
would be a half-hour for dinner; and 
then work again until the sun had made 
its daily journey over the earth and the 


22 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

fields were growing gray in the cooling 
light. 

Silly Willy put his hand to his head 
oftener than usual that morning, for the 
throb of the machinery seemed repeated 
there. His damp, flaxen hair curled 
about his face, while drops of sweat, like 
beads, stood out on the white skin. His 
eyes were hot and tired. At midday, 
when suddenly the great humming 
wheels stood still, he climbed up on to 
the window-seat with his dinner. 

There were two women also there, 
and several others soon crowded around, 
all talking in angry, excited tones; but 
Willy did not listen, for he was trying 
to look over the tops of the mill-houses 
and tenements to the green fields which 
lay beyond, and to catch the breeze that 
seemed to be blowing the dark gray- 
green plumes of the pines. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 


23 


“ It ’s still an’ pleasant, ain’t it ? ” he 
said aloud suddenly, for he was fancying 
himself on the distant hill. “ We ’re 
lucky to be here where there ain’t no 
noise, an’ no machines.” 

“ Lucky ! Listen to Silly Willy ! ” cried 
one of the women. “ Did ye know your 
last bit o’ luck, child ? Wages to be 
cut down ! ” 

“ It ’s a crool shame, inyhow,” struck 
in Mary McHennessy. “An’ him livin’ 
on the fat o’ the land. But if ye was to 
schrape Marsachusetts wid a foine tooth 
comb, ye ’d niver come across a maner 
man than ould King, — an’ bad luck to 
him, ses I.” 

“ That ’s the way ‘ the bad un ’ talks,” 
said Willy, uneasily ; “ but grandfer says 
he gives us work, an’ we ’d oughter be 
grateful.” 

“ Grateful ! An’ who gits the fat share 


24 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

o’ profits? We’re workin’ more fur 
him ’n fu-r ourselves.” 

“ Look out there! ” cried one of the 
women on the window-seat, shrilly ; 
“ an’ ye ’ll see who we ’re a-workin’ fur, 
— fur that little ninny who’s a-settin’ 
up there like a queen.” 

Silly Willy looked with the others, 
and saw a little girl with a cloud of 
golden hair, sitting in a carriage. In 
her splendid blond beauty she was like 
a dazzle of sunshine. Her white frock 
and glistening hair shone against the 
dark green of the carriage cushions. 
One of the two women who attended 
her held a large white parasol over her 
head, and the other carried an armful 
of bright wraps. The polished harness 
glittered in the sunlight as the horses 
impatiently pawed the ground. 

It made a picture of sumptuous ele- 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 25 

gance to Willy, who laughed aloud in 
his enjoyment. 

“I’m a workin’ fur her , then,” he said 
joyfully, “ an’ never knew it afore.” 

The women were too much interested 
in the bright scene below to notice the 
folly of Silly Willy; for the little girl 
with nurse and governess was getting 
out of the carriage, evidently intending 
to enter the mill. At once they had 
recognized the child as the daughter of 
their employer. 

Instead of being called by his rightful 
name, which was Richard King, this man 
was known among them as King Rich- 
ard ; for, besides the mill, he owned the 
cottages in which they lived, and for 
which they were obliged to pay such rent 
as he chose to ask. The stores where 
they traded were his stores ; and he had 
so much money that, as no one liked to 
offend him, town affairs were managed 


26 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

pretty much as he wished. It was said 
that ever since his wife died his only 
object in life was to pile up a great for- 
tune, and that he plucked the feathers 
that made his own nest so soft from an 
already stripped and shivering people. 
These unfortunates hated him bitterly, 
and also Mr. Bellew, his chief superin- 
tendent, who was responsible for much 
that made their lives hard. Being igno- 
rant and unjust, they included little 
Katherine in their dislike, although she 
was innocent of any fault toward them. 

This was the first time that she had 
ever visited the mill, and she looked 
about her with a child’s wide-eyed won- 
der. The working women returned this 
look over their machines with one of 
suppressed hostility. Lovely little Kath- 
erine, so softly nurtured, guarded by 
governess and nurse, could but remind 
them of their own neglected little ones 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 27 

stumbling on their ill-starred, unblessed 
way. They wagged their heads angrily, 
looking meaningly at each other, so that 
the child saw no friendly face except 
that of Silly Willy, which, in strange 
contrast, was glowing with admiration 
and delight. She went up to him and 
asked him his name, but the steam was 
now on again, and she could not hear 
what he said. Perceiving that speech 
was impossible, Katherine took a white 
rose which was stuck in her sash and 
held it toward him. Willy took it 
gratefully, understanding the friendly 
act as he might not have understood 
spoken words. 

He laid his cheek gently against it, 
while she, looking back and smiling in 
response to his smile, hurried away 
with the governess. 

“ An’ I ’m a-workin’ fur her,” thought 
the poor simple boy ; “ I ain’t goin’ to 


28 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 



Katherine took a white rose and held it toward him.” 


mind the noise now, for I ’m a-workin’ 
fur the little un.” 

He pinned the rose carefully on his 
ragged blouse ; and the last Katherine 
saw of him, as she looked back into the 
room, he was trundling with new en- 
ergy one of the baskets full of spindles 
down the aisle. 


PART II. 

J^HE following 
morning, Miss 
Purdy, the gov- 
erness, and 
Rose, the nurse, 
\ declared that 
^ Katherine 
^ was cross; 
■and she 

katherine. seemed to 

feel it i n- 

cumbent upon her to prove their words 
true. She was an odd being, this beauti- 
ful little Katherine, with varying moods, 
but that of a proud aloofness was most 
frequent. In this mood she was usually 



30 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

accused of crossness by nurse, who had 
not that imaginative sympathy that 
would enable her to understand her 
strange charge. Whatever odd thing 
she said or did, Rose suggested some 
ugly motive for it. When Miss Purdy 
came as governess to Katherine, she 
accepted the opinions of nurse ready 
made, preferring the risk of misfits to 
the trouble of forming more accurate 
ones for herself. The constant misun- 
derstandings, the deeply felt want of 
sympathy, had made Katherine very 
reserved. Her father, although he cared 
for no one as he did for his child, was 
too much occupied with his business to 
see very much of her, which left her 
almost entirely to the society of the two 
women. 

There were to be no lessons that 
morning, for Katherine had said so ; and 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 31 

Miss Purdy always obeyed Katherines 
wish. When King Richard had en- 
gaged the governess it was with the 
expressed desire that she should make 
Katherine obey, but with such tact that 
she would never be made unhappy. 
This is an achievement which is quite 
possible in the minds of those who have 
never had any care of children. Kath- 
erine, however, was always unhappy 
unless she had her own way, and when 
this was explained to her father he only 
said, — 

“ Well, well, let her have her own 
way, then. Above all, I wish her to be 
happy.” 

When, after breakfast that morning, 
Katherine opened her story-book, Miss 
Purdy began to write French exercises 
at the desk. Although she had no par- 
ticular use for that language, Miss Purdy 


32 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

was very fond of studying French, — 
much fonder than of studying the char- 
acter of Katherine. 

“ Well, if anybody is going to write 
them it had better be she, for she likes 
to, and I don’t,” Katherine said to her- 
self. 

Nurse had brought a great pile of 
mending, and sat down by the window 
for a pleasant chat with herself, after a 
fashion she had. She said she liked 
to talk to herself because she was never 
interrupted, no one corrected her parts 
of speech, and then she could see to 
it that nothing unpleasant was said 
to her. 

“ I declare, Mis Martin is gettin’ too 
old to do washin’,” she began, in a so- 
ciable way, as she looked over one of 
Katherine’s waists, “ though like enough 
she is n’t so old as she looks. Drubbin’ 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 33 

over a wash-tub don’t give any great 
style to the figger. Poor old thing, she 
does work hard ! I was sorry to see 
that grandson of hers a-workin’ in the 
mill, — him they call Silly Willy, you 
know,” she added, nodding to Miss 
Purdy. 

“ Oh, I saw him too,” exclaimed 
Katherine, jumping up. “ He walks 
like this.” 

She limped across the room in such 
good imitation of Silly Willy that both 
women laughed, though sorely against 
their will, and the governess said, — 

“ You have a bad heart, Katherine, or 
you would n’t mock a poor little cripple. 
I should think you would be sorry for 
him.” 

“ I ’m not sorry for him at all,” an- 
swered Katherine. 

She had meant only to describe the 


34 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

boy, and had no thought of mockery in 
her heart; but she was too proud to 
explain this, and took a perverse pleas- 
ure in shocking her uncharitable com- 
panions. 

“Now, listen to that!” said nurse, 
holding up her hands. “ Why, it just 
breaks my heart to think of the poor 
little white creetur in that rickerty rack- 
erty place ; but it ’s easy to see he ’ll 
never be able to stand it long. He'll 
never make old bones. An’ he’s a 
gentle lad, never one for complaining, 
— neither him nor his grandfather, 
though the grandmother scolds enough 
for the three of ’em.” 

“ Some of those folks down there do 
be terrible cross and dissatisfied,” Rose 
went on, after a pause. “ There ’s Mis 
Saunders, now, — the Saunders live in 
the next house to the Martins, — she 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 35 

can’t make up her mind to things-as- 
they-is. She ’s that sort of a cross an’ 
dissatisfied creetur ; an’ there ’s nothing 
too hard fur her to say against him-that- 
must n’t-be-mentioned.” 

This was the term by which nurse 
always designated King Richard when 
she had anything to say to his disad- 
vantage. It was an odd notion of Miss 
Purdy and Rose that Katherine under- 
stood only that part of their conversa- 
tion that was intended for her, and now 
they did not notice her crimson cheeks 
and the angry glances she darted toward 
them. 

“ Well, Jim Saunders invented some- 
thing about the machinery that saves 
hundreds of dollars every year,” Rose 
continued, “an’ Mis Saunders, she will 
have it that Jim’s family oughter get 
some good out of it. She ’s always 


2,6 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

railing at the law which says the em- 
ployer gets the whole, ’cause ’t was done 
in workin’ hours, when his time was 
paid for. The Saunderses had nigh on 
to a dozen children, — not a pretty sort 
of children either, but lookin’ like a pack 
of hungry wolves; an’ after a bit Jim 
got discouraged, an’ took to drinking 
hard, and then of course he got turned 
off from the mill. He might have done 
better perhaps if Mis Saunders had 
chirked him up; but instead of that, 
having such a dissatisfied disposition, 
you know, she could n’t be cheerful. 
They would have starved, I expect, if 
it had n’t been for the neighbors ; an’ as 
it was, two of the children died. That 
kinder eased things a little, I guess, for 
then there was all the more for the 
others. An’ Jim, he was run over one 
night, an’ though it don’t sound well to 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 3 7 

say so, that was really a great streak of 
luck; for Jim didn’t get work, an’ Mis 
Saunders could n’t earn enough to take 
care of the whole of ’em. They are 
middlin’ comfortable now, I guess; but 
lor! Mis Saunders is just as dissatisfied 
as ever.” 

“ Such as she will have a hard time 
to get along if the wages are lowered, as 
there is a rumor of,” said Miss Purdy. 

“A cruel thing! An’ if ’t is done, 
there ’ll be plenty o’ sufferin’ ; an’ him- 
that-must n’t-be-mentioned will have it 
all to answer for,” cried nurse. “ They 
do say the hands are going to strike. 
But though things-as-they-is is pretty 
hard on ’em, there ’s no good in strik- 
ing; for what’s the use of the mouse 
declarin’ he won’t be eat up when the 
cat ’s already got his paw on him ? ” 

“ I know what you mean, and I hope 


38 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

he will eat up every one of them,” sud- 
denly burst out Katherine. 

There is nothing more cruelly hard 
for a child to bear than the dispar- 
agement in mysterious terms that she 
cannot reply to of one she loves. 
Katherine’s anger conquered the shy- 
ness that came with a consciousness 
that she was at a disadvantage in this 
conversation ; but her hot speech meant 
nothing but the determination to stand 
loyally by her father. The women, 
however, looked at her disapprovingly. 

“ She ’s just like her pa, for all the 
world. Her heart is as hard as a stone,” 
whispered nurse ; and the governess 
nodded significantly. 

Katherine waited to hear no more, 
but ran away into the hall, — that grand 
hall of King Richard’s that went from 
end to end of his splendid big house. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 39 

There was an ample fireplace in it, and 
a blazing fire cast a glowing reflection 
upon the polished floor ; but for all that 
it had not an air of cheer, it never 
echoed to fond, happy voices, it did not 
seem the entrance of that place of peace 
and love, — a home. As she paced it, 
little Katherine sighed with loneliness, 
and her light footfall seemed to waken 
a dreary echo. 

At length she stopped before the 
library door and looked in wistfully at 
her father, who, with close attention, was 
looking over some papers. 

It had been one of the laws under 
which Katherine had grown from baby- 
hood, that on no pretext- whatever was 
she to enter this room or seek her fa- 
ther there. In it the spirit of business 
was the deity that neither slumbered nor 
slept. Now, however, the love-hunger 


40 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

and loneliness in her heart drove her 
there, and she stood on the threshold, 



“ She stood on the thresh- 
old, silent but beseech- 
ing.” 


silent but beseech- 
ing. Presently 
King Richard, look- 
ing up, gave a 
start, for the sunny- 
haired girl remind- 
ed him of one who 
had so often in- 
vaded his grim 
sanctum with an- 
other spirit than 
its own, which in- 
deed, humbled and 
conquered, had hid- 
den itself in the re- 
motest corner. 

“ What is it, 
Katherine ? ” he 
asked. “ Come in.” 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 41 

“ Oh may I, father ? ” she cried, shoot- 
ing like a ray of sunshine to his side. 
“ I am so lonely ! ” 

“ Lonely ? ” repeated King Richard, 
frowning. “ I want you to be happy, 
and I told Miss Purdy so. ’T is an odd 
thing indeed if my child can’t be made 
happy. You shall have more dolls.” 

“ I don’t want them, father ; dolls are 
such stupid things. No matter how 
much you love them, they never will 
love you at all. Yesterday I put mine 
all away in a big, big box. There were 
fifty-two, and not one cared a straw 
for me.” 

“Well, what would you like, Kath- 
erine? You shall have anything you 
want.” 

“ But I don’t know what I want,” 
answered the child, nestling so close to 
him that the spirit which had been at 


42 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

his elbow moved away, and he began to 
stroke the beautiful golden head, and 
think of her he had called the Queen of 
Sunshine, who had made all his paths 
the paths of pleasantness and peace. 

“ I wish, father,” said Katherine, sud- 
denly looking up into his eyes, “ that I 
was like Mr. Bellew.” 

“ Bless my soul ! ” exclaimed King 
Richard, staring at the round, rosy face 
before him, and thinking of the long, 
sallow one of his superintendent, “ why 
do you wish to resemble Bellew ? ” 

“ Because you like to talk to Mr. 
Bellew, and I think he must be very 
amusing. Somehow I can’t think of a 
single thing to say about business.” 

Her father looked at her a moment, 
and then laughed. 

“You might try. I dare say ’t would 
be more amusing than you think.” 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 43 

But Katherine shook her head. “ Is 
business really the only thing that 
amuses you, father ? ” 

Just as she asked this question there 
was a sharp ring at the bell, and Mr. 
Bellew himself was shown in. Instantly 
King Richard put Katherine down, 
bidding her run away to her governess, 
adding, as he read disappointment in 
her wistful face, that she could tell Miss 
Purdy to take her down to the shops 
and buy her whatever she wished there. 
But, as there was nothing the little girl 
wished, this privilege did not console 
her for the loss of her father’s company. 
She looked back enviously at the for- 
tunate Mr. Bellew, who however did not 
seem to appreciate this good fortune, for 
he looked annoyed and said, in an exas- 
perated tone, — 

“ Well, those fools at the mills have 
struck ! ” 


44 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

Katherine slipped out, with her 
thoughts brought round again to the 
talk of nurse that had vexed her so. 
All the love and kindness she had ever 
known had been given her by her fa- 
ther, and she would not have dreamt 
of blaming him for the distress of the 
mill people ; but whose fault was it, she 
wondered. Instead of going back to 
Miss Purdy and Rose, she sat down on 
the wooden seat built into the fireplace 
in the hall, thinking that perhaps when 
Mr. Bellew went away her father would 
take her into the library again ; but 
when at last Mr. Bellew went out her 
father followed him. 

King Richard and the superintendent 
drove to the mills. Passing through 
the district where the working people 
lived, one might easily guess at the 
misery of their lives. Yet it made little 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 45 

impression on King Richard’s mind, 
who, if he noticed it, blamed their want 
of thrift or love of drink. He prided 
himself upon being a practical business 
man and no sentimentalist, and believed 
that by paying them such wages as the 
profit on his business allowed, he had 
performed his whole duty toward them ; 
therefore it angered him that they 
would not accept the new scale of 
wages he had made, and decreed that 
if they did not return to their work at 
a certain date their places should be 
filled by others, thus cutting off all 
chance of their getting work that win- 
ter, as other mills were turning away 
old workmen rather than' hiring new 
ones. , 

It was a chilly, gray-toned day which 
hinted at a rigorous winter. The pros- 
pect of fields and distant hills that had 


46 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

been so pleasant the day before was 
now dreary enough, and drearier still 
seemed the old mill itself in its un- 
wonted mood of grim, sullen silence. 
None of the sights and sounds of the 
usual busy day met the two men as 
they approached. The mill seemed 
utterly deserted; so that on going up 
the steps it was a surprise to find Silly 
Willy in the doorway. He was sitting 
with his head resting wearily against 
the panel of the door, and was blue 
with the cold as if he had waited so a 
long while. 

“ What do you want here ? ” asked 
the superintendent. 

“ I want to go in an’ work,” answered 
Willy. “ I ain’t joined the strike.” 

He stood up, and looked into the 
men’s faces with that exquisite smile 
of his. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 47 

“ I ain’t joined the strike, for I want 
to keep a-workin’ for the little un. I 
want to go in an’ work.” 

“ Is the little one your sister ? ” asked 
King Richard. 

“No, sir; it’s her that came yester- 
day ter the mill, — her that we work 
for, an’ keep always soft an’ pretty an’ 
warm.” 

King Richard started. He turned 
his face from the keen eyes of the 
superintendent, for he knew now whom 
the boy meant. 

“ I want to go in an’ work. I want to 
go in an’ work,” reiterated Silly Willy. 

His smile faded, and the day seemed 
grayer and chillier than ever. The wind 
blew his flaxen hair away from his face, 
showing more plainly the pinch of pain 
and poverty. He shivered piteously in 
his ragged garments. 


48 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

“'The mill will be opened in a few 
days again,” said Mr. Bellew. “You 
had better go home now. It ’s cold 
enough standing here in the wind.” 

“An’ while the mill is closed will 
the little un be kep’ soft an’ pretty an’ 
warm ? ” 

“ She will be comfortable,” answered 
King Richard, grimly. “ Go home and 
keep warm yourself.” 

Willy obeyed, limping stiffly down the 
steps, while the two men entered the 
mill. . 

“ Poor fellpw, he is almost an idiot,” 
said Mr. Bellew, — “Tim Martin’s grand- 
son.” 

King Richard made no comment. He 
was a grave man, not given to many 
words ; but his thought was, that he 
would look after this little cripple, and 
see that he was made comfortable. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 49 

Unhappily in the press of business this 
impulse of his better nature was for- 
gotten ; and when next he looked upon 
the still, sweet face of Silly Willy, not 
all the money he had spent his life 
to gain could add one iota to its pain- 
less peace and happiness. 


PART III. 



OVEMBER 
had passed, 
and win- 
ter set in 
with drifts 
of snow. 
The north 
wind, that 
blew in 
gusts 
down 
from the 
mountains, turned 
to ice every living 
thing it met. It 
silenced the merry 


rooks and crystallized the woods. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 51 

Willy’s hemlock looked like a tree 
from the enchanted land. 

The operatives at Kingsland Mills, 
forced to accept the reduced wages, had 
returned to their work. Several mills 
in the town had closed altogether, for 
business was very dull that winter ; and 
many men and women from other towns, 
with the vain hope of finding work there, 
had pressed into Kingsland. The dis- 
tress of the working people was of pain- 
ful distinctness. Gloomy faces looked 
out from the windows of the small cot- 
tages, and from crazy rookeries where 
dozens of families herded together, came 
the sound of the cursing and quarrelling 
of idle men and the crying of miserable 
children. 

Late in November, after a sharp, short 
illness, Grandmother Martin died. She 
had been a fretful old woman, having 


52 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

known nothing of life save its work and 
worry; but Tim and Silly Willy had not 
so many friends that they did not miss 
her sorely. Often of an evening, as they 
sat listening to the wind drearily moan- 
ing in the chimney, Willy would get up, 
and scraping the frost off the window- 
pane, look out into the wintry night. 
Once he asked Tim if he were not afraid 
his grandmother was cold out there in 
the sleet and ice where they had laid 
her, but Tim answered cheerfully,— 

“ Dear, no, child. She ’s comfortable 
now, unless ’t is for a grievance to scold 
over. She might miss that, bein’ used 
to a plenty to choose from. But them 
that ’s gone has the best of it, Willy ; 
I ’m sure o’ that. She ’s a heap more 
comfortable ’n we be. Don’t be frettin’ 
for her, boy.” And in his trustful way 
Willy settled down again, murmuring 
contentedly- — 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 53 



OLD TIM. 


“ She s more comfortable ’n we be. 
We mustn’t fret for her.” 

The winter bore hard indeed upon 
these two, — the feeble old man and 


54 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

the poor weak-minded boy, — yet neither 
complained. Often they were hungry, 
and still oftener very cold, and worse 
than all to Tim was the fear that his 
blindness would increase until he would 
be unable to work ; yet he bore all with 
his usual gentle patience. Neither did 
Willy’s fright cheerfulness forsake him; 
for no sense of injustice, no resentment, 
embittered their sweet natures. 

“ It ’s a dreadful bad winter anyhow,” 
old Tim said one morning, as they ate 
their crusts of bread before going to 
work. “ Folks everywhere is feelin’ the 
hard times. It ain’t us alone. King 
Richard himself is obleeged to draw in 
some, I reckon. Sure Bellew hinted as 
much, sayin’ we’ve all gotter take our 
share of the trouble. I heard some one 
say that King Richard has had to sell 
one of them fine saddle horses o’ his. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 55 

That come hard on him, now I dare 
say.” 

“Do you think he’s ever cold, 
Grandfer, an’ — an’ hungry? ” questioned 
Willy, looking up with a start from the 
fireless hearth. “Oh, I’m afeard for 
the little un ! ” 

“No, no; they ain’t cold an’ hungry. 
Ye needn’t fret fur that,” answered the 
grandfather. 

But for all this assurance anxiety 
clouded Willy’s soft eyes. All day his 
trouble grew. When the wind drove 
its sharp teeth through his ragged 
clothing, he whispered to himself, “ Oh, 
the poor little un!” and when his head 
whirled giddily from the faintness in 
his stomach, again he moaned, “ Oh, 
the poor little un ! ” 

No one sympathized with his fears. 
The mill people laughed scornfully, and 


56 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

said he was fast losing the few wits he had. 
Only the hemlock-tree, seeming to share 
this as it did all his thoughts, caught 
the refrain, and moaned after him, “ Oh, 
the poor little un ! the poor little un ! ” 
As far as her material welfare was 
concerned, Katherine needed no one’s 
sympathy ; but Christmas was now 
coming, and Katherine felt her loneli- 
ness never so much as at this season. 
The thought of the coming festival, in 
which no one would be likely to find 
any enjoyment, wearied her. Her little 
soft pink mouth took a persistent down- 
ward curve, and her white brow under 
the golden love-locks puckered into a 
constant frown. Perceiving her sad 
looks, King Richard was troubled, and 
gave orders that the Christmas festivi- 
ties should be upon a more generous 
scale than usual, and no wish of Kath- 
erine’s denied. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 57 

Katherine watched these preparations 
with a doleful air that exasperated the 
nurse and governess, who tried to scold 
her into a more fitting humor. 

“ It ain’t healthy for a child not to 
like Christmas; but I never did see 
such a queer girl as you are.” Nurse 
had a way of uttering the word queer 
so as to make it very objectionable to 
Katherine, who thought she would pre- 
fer to be called by some purposely dis- 
agreeable word. “You take no more 
interest in your Christmas-tree than if 
you was an old woman of eighty.” 

“ Then what ’s the use of having one 
for me ? ” Katherine asked ; “ I don’t 
want it.” 

“ Oh, your father has ordered it. You 
must have it,” nurse said ; and Miss 
Purdy added mournfully, — 

“ And he wishes us to be very merry. 


58 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

It’s a great trial, but we ’ve all got to 
go through with it. So do be a good 
child, and not go about looking so for- 
lorn. I believe you mope on purpose, 
knowing nurse and I will be blamed 
for it.” 

“ And the idea of it now, when there s 
not another child in all Kingsland that 
would n’t dance with delight to have 
half as much done for her,” nurse struck 
in sharply. “ I declare, I ’d like to 
shake you.” 

Strange as it may appear, Katherine 
was not urged by these remarks into a 
happier mood, but crept off by herself 
where her mirthlessness would not be 
commented on. She curled herself up 
in her favorite seat by the fire in the 
hall. 

“ How can one enjoy a Christmas- 
tree all by one’s self ? ” she thought, 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 59 

not unreasonably. “ It ’s so tiresome in 
Miss Purdy and Rose to expect me to 
jump about because other children do. 
And what do I care for the presents ? 
The dolls — of course there will be 
dolls — I shall put away with the old 
ones. There will be games, I suppose ; 
but what’s the good of a game for one? 
Oh, yes, there ’ll be piles of presents, 
as usual.” 

Katherine stood up, with her arms 
outstretched, and yawned until one 
could see halfway down her little red 
throat. She felt dull and lonely, and 
it was easy to see that the anticipated 
presents really gave her little pleasure. 
Yet as she stood there, with her golden 
locks blazing in the firelight, her alert 
little figure built for merry motion, her 
round cheeks softly curved and bloom- 
ing with health, she seemed made for 
happiness. 


60 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

In the afternoon, with Miss Purdy 
and Rose, Katherine rode to the town. 
It was a clear, sharp day, and the crust 
of the snow was so hard that it glistened 
like ice in the sun ; the shadows in the 
drifts were spaces of pure, translucent 
color — blue or pinky violet. The icicles 
hung from the roofs like a crystal fringe, 
and the air seemed full of glistening 
points of light. It was two days before 
Christmas, and the town wore a merry 
holiday air. The sleigh bells made a 
pleasant chime, and the streets were 
crowded with merry-makers. But one 
may be sure there was little merry-mak- 
ing that year in the district of Kingsland 
Mills. There a bitter despondency 
reigned — a brutal, revengeful spirit, far 
enough from peace and good-will. In- 
stead of mirth there was drunken misery; 
instead of pleasant greetings, street 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 61 

brawlings and oaths. They, the poor 
whom the Lord of this festival most 
loved, are seldom present now at His 
birthday feast. 

Fourteen times since Silly Willy was 
first laid in his mother’s arms and she 
had wept that he was born to inherit 
the miseries of her existence, this beauti- 
ful season of Christmas had come round. 
Never had it come to Tim Martin’s cot- 
tage with gifts and feasting and holiday 
cheer. Never yet had the hemlock-tree 
been dressed and lighted for the festival. 
Often at this season as at others there 
had been a scarcity of food and fuel ; but 
never had it come with such hopeless- 
ness as now, for that long-felt fear that 
had followed Tim like a soft-footed tiger 
had at length sprung upon him. One 
cruel day he had been turned off from 
the mill, where he had worked for so 


62 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

many years, and now sat through the 
weary hours in idle darkness and per- 
plexity that tried not to be despair. 

So Willy was now the sole wage- 
winner, and both must contrive to live 
on the little he could earn. Tim’s blind- 
ness at least saved him from one pitiful 
sight, — that of his grandson’s face grow- 
ing whiter, thinner, and sweeter, as the 
little thread of life wore away. 

Now it happened that the street 
through which King Richard’s coach- 
man usually drove to the town was 
impassable that day, and he was obliged 
to go through Kingsland Mills, and for 
this reason Katherine came to have a 
second glimpse of Silly Willy. 

The snow had blown in a huge drift 
into the Martin’s yard, and Willy had 
begun to make a path through it to the 
gate ; but the task had stretched beyond 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 63 

his strength, and he had sunk down, 
exhausted in the snow within a few feet 
of its termination. The wind was play- 
ing through the hemlock, which waved 
its fragrant branches and spoke to him 
in soft, soothing whispers. Simple crea- 
tures like Willy, to whom human speech 
is often unmeaning, understand these 
voices of Nature, to whose message the 
so-called wise are often deaf. As he lay 
there listening contentedly to the tree 
the sleigh of King Richard passed by. 

Since she had seen him at the mill 
Katherine had never forgotten the white, 
tired, but exquisitely happy face of Silly 
Willy; but now it was hidden from her, 
and she could only see his lean, ill-clad, 
crooked little figure as it lay prone on the 
bed of snow. She pitied him, not know- 
ing that he was happier than herself; 
but not for the world would she have 


64 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

owned this to the two women, who began 
to contrast his life with hers, trying to 
draw from her some expression of sym- 
pathy. 

The love that was really warm and 
vital in Katherine’s heart was never 
recognized because of this proud per- 
versity that led her to hide it as if it 
were a disgrace. 

To her governess and nurse she had 
never seemed more perverse and un- 
lovely than upon this afternoon when 
she opposed all their plans. One of 
their errands was the purchase of the 
Christmas-tree, but none pleased Kath- 
erine, who finally declared she would 
have the little hemlock of Silly Willy’s 
— that or none. 

The women were aghast at this freak, 
which would rob Silly Willy of the one 
poor joy of his life, but they dared not 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 65 

refuse Katherine’s wish, since it was 
King Richard’s order that all her wishes 
should be gratified. 

However, it was now too late in the 
afternoon to visit the Martin’s cottage, 
and the women agreed that they would 
go there early on the following morning; 
but in the morning Miss Purdy was 
called away by a summons from her 
home, and poor Rose was laid up in her 
bed by rheumatism. 

It was well that the mill was closed 
that next day, for, on waking, Willy felt 
strangely weak. 

“ There ’s somethin’ queer ails me, 
Grandfer,” he said in a sweet, faint voice, 
and smiling bravely with blue lips. “ I 
can’t hold myself up.” 

“ Lie there, then, boy. ’T is an off 
day anyhow. Lie still an’ rest yerself,” 
the grandfather answered. There was a 
5 


66 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

thick darkness between him and Willy’s 
face, else he would have seen that the 
end was near. 

The cottage was bitterly cold and very 
quiet. No outer thing was visible, for 
the window-panes were quite frosted 
over, and the snow muffled the out-door 
sounds. From force of habit old Tim 
sat by the stove, but there was no fire 
in it. Once or twice he spread out his 
shaking old hands toward it, and then 
drew them back with a' start. Willy lay 
absolutely motionless. 

The stillness was not broken until 
nearly noon, when a light knock, as if 
made by a child’s hand, was heard at 
the door. Tim got up and, groping his 
way to the door, opened it, and suddenly, 
in all the affluence of her wealth and 
youth and beauty, Katherine stood in 
the little room. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 67 


Her voice at once roused Willy, who 
opened his eyes with a look of pleased 
wonder. 

“ Is he sick?” asked Katherine, tremu- 
lously of Tim. 

“A bit weak-like, Miss, that’s all. 
Speak to her, Willy.” 

“No, I ain’t sick,” said Willy, with 
that same blue smile. “ I ’ve been a bit 
chilly, but I ain’t now. An’ you? Are 
you warm ? ” 

“Yes,” said Katherine, “ I am warm.” 

“ But clear through ? ” persisted Willy. 
“ Does n’t the cold bite through this ? ” he 
said, touching her thick coat. “ Does n’t 
it make your teeth rattle ? ” 

“ No,” answered Katherine again. “ I 
am quite warm.” 

“And in the house, too, — does the 
fire burn all the time there ? ” 

“Yes, all the time,” said Katherine. 


68 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

“ That ’s good. I ’m glad of that,” 
whispered Silly Willy, smiling still. 
“ An’ is there plenty to eat — always 
plenty to eat ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” answered Katherine, 
“ there is always plenty.” 

“The little un, she’s always warm. 
She ain’t never hungry — never,” he 
said to Tim, with a sudden radiance. 
“ The times ain’t so bad, Grandfer, 
are they ? ” 

Katherine looked in pity at the bare, 
cheerless room, at the remnant of bread 
and cold tea of which these two had 
made breakfast, at the age-worn, pa- 
tient figure of Tim, and lastly at Willy. 

“ I don’t wonder you are cold ; there ’s 
no fire here,” she said. 

“ I was cold, but I ain’t cold now ; 
there ain’t nothin’ troublin’ me.” 

“ He ’s a bit tired this mornin’,” added 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 69 


the grandfather; “but ter-morrow ’ll be 
Christmas day, an’ he ’ll be up then, I ’ll 
warrant ye.” 

“Yes,” said Katherine; “to-morrow 
will be Christmas, and I ’m to have a 
Christmas-tree. I want the one in the 
yard there.” 

“My tree!” cried Willy, startled; 
“ my Christmas-tree ! ” 

“ Why, yes,” laughed Katherine ; 
“ it ’s prettier than any I saw in the 
shops.” 

“ ’T is a rare, fine tree, Miss,” said 
Tim, troubled, for the tree seemed a 
part of Willy. “ Many a time but for 
this he would have chopped it into fire- 
wood. ’T is a fine tree, but ’t is a com- 
fort to the boy, an’ I ’ve often thought 
sometime it might be we could fix it up 
for a Christmas-tree, an’ him an’ the 
children here would think a sight of it, 


70 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

never havin’ seen one, ye know, Miss. 
Yes, ’t is the boy’s tree.” 

Willy seemed not to hear what his 
grandfather said. He turned his head 
to look out of the window, from which 
one usually caught a glimpse of the 
hemlock, but now it was quite hidden 
by the thick coat of frost. 

“ The tree, ’t was fur the little un, an’ 
I never knew it,” he said slowly. “ Will 
it have candles shining thick like stars 
in the branches ? ” 

“Yes, I promise you it shall,” an- 
swered Katherine. 

“ An’ he ’ll never see it, poor boy, 
after all,” murmured Tim. “ Poor little 
chap, it seems hard on him. No, he’ll 
not see it.” 

“ Yes, yes, I ’ll see it ; don’t fret about 
that. I ’ll see it o’ dark nights with my 
eyes shut. Many a thing I see that 


7 r 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

way, an’ I think I ’ll see the tree,” said 
Willy, dreamily ; then turning to Kath- 
erine, he went on, “You’re welcome to 
the tree ; an’ I wish — I wish you — 
what is it they say, Grandfer ? I ’ve 
forgot how the words go.” 

“ I wish you Merry Christmas an’ 
Happy New Year,” said the old man, — 
“ that ’s the sayin’. It don’t mean 
nothin’ ’s I know of, but it sounds 
pleasant.” 

That afternoon one of King Rich- 
ard’s men came to take away the tree. 
The strok.e of the axe fell faintly upon 
the stillness of the cottage, blending 
with Willy’s dreams, for he lay dozing. 
Old Tim, going out into the yard, 
begged some twigs of the hemlock, 
which he laid in Willy’s hands, and 
which scented the room with their spicy 
odor. 


72 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

When the people of Kingsland Mills 
learned why the tree had been carried 
away, they were angry. 

“ They ’ll have our skins next, to 
make purses of,” they said bitterly. 


PART IV. 



against which 
Katherine flashed 
riously. 


ING RICH- 
ARD’S hall 
had put on fes- 
tal cheer. In 
festoons along its walls 
hung the Christmas 
greens, branches of 
holly filled the chim- 
ney panel, and the mis- 
tletoe hung from the 
rafters. Upon a dais at 
the end of the hall stood 
the tree, a dusky green, 
the blonde beauty of 
and gleamed glo- 


74 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

The child’s face was radiant with 
happiness, which sparkled in her eyes, 
glowed in her cheeks, and stirred her 
at last into frolicsome, childlike move- 
ment. With her golden curls floating 
over her shoulders, she danced fairy-like 
around the tree, while in pleased sur- 
prise King Richard stood watching her. 

“ But the tree is rather small/’ he 
said at length, doubtfully. 

“ Large enough to hold nearly all the 
presents I have ever had. Oh, Father, I 
am glad now that I have had so many.” 

“Well, you are to have new ones,” 
said King Richard, “ many new ones ; 
I have ordered the women to buy them. 
You mustn’t hang these old things on 
your tree, foolish child.” 

He pointed to a miscellaneous heap 
of toys that had been laid by the side of 
the dais. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns, 75 

“ Must n’t I ? ” said Katherine. “ Oh, 
why not? I thought I was to have 
everything to please me.” 

“Well, well, then,” laughed the father. 
“ It is true I care only that you are 
pleased.” 

“ Then you must help me tie them 
on,” Katherine entreated. “ I can’t 
reach, and John is so clumsy. Besides, 
it will be so nice for us to do it to- 
gether.” 

Laughing at her whim, King Rich- 
ard nevertheless obeyed it, until the tree 
was loaded with its gay burden. 

“ Dear child,” the father said, as for 
a moment they stood looking at the 
tree, “ it must have been many a year 
since some of these toys were given 
you. I believe here are all you have 
ever had. Do you never play with 
them then, you strange child? See,” 


76 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

he said, pointing to the fifty-two dolls 
that had been recalled from banish- 
ment, and were now hanging in a smil- 
ing row around the lower branches of 
the tree, “see, these look like new.” 

“ It ’s so lucky, so lucky,” laughed 
Katherine, gleefully. 

“ I would rather you had enjoyed 
them.” 

“ I am enjoying them now. Oh, 
Father, I could not spare one.” 

At his puzzled face she burst into 
ringing laughter, and again began her 
light tiptoe dance. Suddenly she came 
to a standstill, saying earnestly, — 

“ Father, won’t you come to-morrow 
evening to the tree? You never came 
to the other trees ; but they were stupid 
things. Oh, won’t you come to this 
one ? I know it won’t be stupid, for I 
have invited to it Silly Willy and all 
the people at Kingsland Mills.” 


77 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

King Richard started violently. 
“ Silly Willy and all the people at 
Kingsland Mills,” he repeated. 

Katherine did not seem to notice his 
tone of displeased disgust. She gath- 
ered up her dainty skirts, and began to 
take little mincing steps around him, 
humming, — 

“ Oh, I am so happy, so happy, so 
happy ! ” 

She seemed all at once to have en- 
tered into a natural, happy childhood, 
having been transformed as by magic 
from the dreary little maid that had 
made his heart so sore. Nevertheless, 
in his annoyance he burst out, — 

“ Those people at Kingsland Mills are 
a set of stubborn, unreasonable idiots. 
Can’t you be happy without bringing 
them here?” 

“No, I am tired of lonesome Christ- 


7 8 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

mases, Father ; and I knew that I could 
invite them, because you said that I 
was to have everything that I wished,” 
Katherine answered joyously, quite in- 
nocent of his real feeling. “ When I 
found that Silly Willy had always 
looked forward to having a Christmas- 
tree for the children at the mills, I 
thought how much better it would- be 
here instead of the stupid, lonesome 
trees I have been used to. Oh, what 
will Silly Willy say when he sees how 
beautiful I have made his tree ? ” 

Like a golden sunbeam she flashed 
in her dance against the sombre green 
of the tree, then suddenly assumed a 
strange air of gravity. 

“Father, they are poor — so poor, 
those people at Kingsland Mills. I 
went into their cottages this afternoon, 
and I think they are cold. Father, I 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 


79 



Father, I think they are hungry. Oh, why do you 
let them be so?” 


think they are hungry. Oh, why do 
you let them be so ? ” 

She pressed close up into his arms, 
so that her innocent, puzzled eyes were 
on a level with his face, and looked 
down fathoms deep into his. 


80 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

King Richard pushed her quickly 
away, and then as quickly caught her 
back, kissing her gently. 

“ 1 here are always the poor every- 
where, my darling,” he said ; “ you must 
not blame me for that. This is a hard 
winter, child, and every one feels it.” 

It being already late, he sent her to 
bed ; but as he had not the heart to 
bedim her little shining face, he did 
not forbid the entertainment she had 
planned. 

With the departure of Katherine a 
silence fell upon the hall, which seemed 
to have taken its color from the warmth 
of her vivid happiness ; the firelight 
died away, for the logs had fallen apart, 
and lay smouldering in the ashes on 
either side of the andirons, a little thin 
current of blue smoke curling from 
each up the chimney. 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 8 1 

King Richard sat motionless, gazing 
absently into the fireplace ; the fragrant 
breath of the hemlock-tree was reviving 
memories that blocked the drift of his 
usual thought, — memories of happier 
years when, far from regarding the 
Christmas celebration as a thing fit 
only for women and children, he had 
made it the occasion of kind acts and 
cheerful charities. 

The Christmas-tree breathed softly 
upon the silence of the large hall, seem- 
ing to whisper “peace and good-will. 1 ’ 
It stirred King Richard’s heart with to 
him unaccountable suggestions. Ava- 
rice folded its long, lean arms, and ran- 
cor slept. The hostility between him- 
self and those poor working people at 
the mills now seemed to him a strange 
and ugly thing. He recalled a time 
when there was no such jarring discord 
6 


82 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

in his life. When Katherine was born, 
these people of his seemed to share in 
his pride and joy. When her mother 
died, they had followed sorrowing with 
him to her burial. He had called their 
children by name, and they had trusted 
him. This condition of mistrust, this 
hateful enmity between them, had grown 
steadily year by*year, as his fortune had 
grown, at an ever increasing rate. Sud- 
denly he realized that his life helped 
to make the world hideous with the 
ghastly contrasts of riches and poverty, 
luxury and want, rags and velvet gowns. 
But now it was the season of love, and 
forbearance, and charity, — the time 
when, if ever, our hearts are touched 
with the sense of our brotherhood to 
the very poorest and lowest of human 
creatures, when the distance between 
the rich and the poor seems less im- 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 83 

passable, when abundance reaches out 
generous hands to want. 

A strange thought flashed into his 
mind, inspired perhaps by the singing 
hemlock, and seemed to blend with the 
echo of Katherines voice pleading for 
his people. 

“ They are cold, Father. I think 
they are hungry . Why do you let 
them be so ? ” 

He had told her that all felt the de- 
pression of the times; but he knew there 
is a great difference between a moderate 
retrenchment, which calls for the sale of 
an extra saddle horse or for the dis- 
missal of one of a corps of servants, and 
the pinch that sharpens the little faces 
of a man’s children. Already they had 
submitted to a reduction in wages ; but 
that day King Richard had decided on 
a further reduction. Suppose, instead 


84 Rags and Velvet Gowns . 

of carrying out this purpose, which the 
state of trade seemed to demand, he 
himself should bear the loss. Such a 
course would not be in accordance with 
strict business principles ; but he could 
bear it, and they could not. 

Acting on this just thought, King 
Richard found a pen and bit of paste- 
board, on which he announced that all 
operatives at the Kingsland Mills would 
be paid at the former rate of wages. 
This he tied upon one of the topmost 
branches of the tree, — a message of 
good-will that the most ignorant or 
stupid could understand. 

It was Christmas night, frosty and 
clear. All through the evening the 
glistening stars looked down on groups 
of people hurrying toward the great 
house of King Richard, from whose 
windows a glowing light shone far out 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 85 

into the night. Within was no hollow 
mockery of the Christmas festival, but 
generous, kindly cheer, warm and grate- 
ful hearts, and love and laughter. 

Great logs blazed in the fireplaces, 
and all the house seemed to the dwell- 
ers of the dark, cold, little mill-cottages 
a marvel of warmth and light. In the 
dining-room tables were set, and great 
slices of roasted meats and mugs of 
coffee served, while more delicate dishes 
stood about in tempting abundance. 

Flocks of children stood around the 
tree, wide-eyed and awe-struck, until 
won by Katherine into mirth. It was 
a magical tree, for dull eyes looking at 
it at once sparkled as if they caught 
some of its own glimmer. For this, 
then, it seemed it had grown so bravely 
all these years in Tim Martin’s yard, — 
the beautiful whispering hemlock. But 


86 Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

although the house-door was constantly 
opening to fresh comers, Silly Willy 
himself had not come. 

“ Where can he be ? ” asked little 
Katherine of one and then another of 
her guests. “,’T is Silly Willy’s tree, 
and he must come before the presents 
are taken from it.” And no one had 
the heart to gainsay this. At length 
some of the men volunteered to go 
for him. 

Then, to shorten the waiting, the 
games went merrily on, many of the 
full-grown men and women joining in. 
But some — those who had been longest 
in the mill, and remembered the old 
pleasant days — sitting apart, would 
glance at Katherine’s golden head, with 
its tossing curls, and murmur, — 

“ ’T is as if her mother had come 
back again. Like enough things will 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 87 

go better with us now.” And then 
they would look at the placard King 
Richard had placed on the tree, and 
smile hopefully. 

To this festal scene the Martin’s cot- 
tage, into which the men entered, bore 
a startling contrast. There, life and 
light and mirth ; but here only sor- 
row and silence, — for Willy lay dying. 
When he learned for what the men 
had come, he stretched out his poor 
weak hands toward them, smiling wist- 
fully. 

“ It ain’t too late,” he said. “ I ’d like 
ter see the tree.” 

So they brought a stretcher, and as 
gently as they could — for their hearts 
were soft that Christmas night — those 
rough men laid Silly Willy upon it. - In 
his hands were the twigs of the hemlock 
Tim had begged for him, and he was 


88 Rags and' Velvet Gowns. 

smiling like a child who has never 
dreamed of pain. As they bore him 
out under the stars they heard the 
sweet, faint murmur of his voice, which 
had the contented sweetness of a tree 
singing in the soft summer breeze, or 
the low, tremulous happiness of young 
birds at dawn. 

Over the soft white snow the little 
procession, with poor blind Tim at its 
foot, moved silently on. So they reached 
King Richard’s house. Some one, hear- 
ing them approach, flung the door wide 
open. Involuntarily the people made 
room by pressing back on either side of 
the hall, leaving free passage down the 
centre. The men therefore came in 
and laid their burden down. 

They placed the stretcher in front of 
the tree, with its myriad flaring tapers, 
its glistening tinsel and gold, — lovely 


Rags and Velvet Gowns. 89 

beyond any conception of Silly Willy’s. 
With smiling expectancy Katherine 
stepped to his side. King Richard 
stood near, and Tim groped his way to 
his darling’s feet. But nearer than all 
was the angel of death, who had laid 
its soft hand on those brave brown eyes, 
so that they saw neither the tree, nor 
that cheerful garlanded hall, nor smiling 
friends, nor the sweet little face of Kath- 
erine as she knelt by his side, eagerly 
begging him to awake and enjoy the 
feast that she had made for him. 

King Richard looked down on the 
fair hair and white face, and the scene 
before him melted away. Again he 
seemed to see Silly Willy on the mill 
steps, blue with the cold, shivering and 
ragged, yet with the love-light in his 
eyes, as he waited for the opening of the 
door that he might go in and work for 


go Rags and Velvet Gowns. 

the “ little un.” In his mad chase for 
fortune he had forgotten his obligation 
to care for this frail little servitor, and 
now it was too late. It was too late ; 
for, smiling like a child who has never 
even dreamed of pain, with the hemlock 
pressed over his bosom, Silly Willy, in 
all his gentle innocence and love and 
trust, lay forever safe. He was beyond 
his power of helping, but also beyond 
the power of hunger, cold, or any other 
pain. 

The old grandfather, pathetic in his 
blind helplessness, hung over the quiet 
figure, while the people with tearful eyes 
pressed around it, speaking soft and low 
in their pity and awe. They came and 
went, — those in the full tide of life, and 
those weak under the weight of weary 
years of service. They came and went ; 
but King Richard never stirred. His 


Rags and Velvet Gowns . 91 

face was set with resolve, for at last 
he saw the obligations toward these 
dependents his place in life imposed 
upon him. 

So it was that he came to his true 
kingship, giving help and protection to 
those who served him. 

The title is still used in Kingsland 
Mills, but not in resentment. 

Every Christmas night there is a 
feast at King Richard’s for his people, 
and the spirit of Silly Willy is always 
present, for it is the spirit of peace and 
good-will. 





Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications. 


By the Author of Dear Daughter Dorothy. 


Robin’s Recruit. 


By A. G. PLYMPTON, 

AUTHOR OF “BETTY A BUTTERFLY,” AND “THE LITTLE 
SISTER OF WILIFRED.” 



With illustrations by the author. Small 4to. Cloth, 
gilt. Price, $1.00. 


Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed , post-paid , on receipt of price, 
by the Publishers. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 

BOSTON, 


Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Juveniles. 


THE LITTLE SISTER OF WILIFRED. 


A Story. By Mis:? A. G. Plympton, author of “Dear 
Daughter Dorothy ” and “Betty a Butterfly.” Illus- 
trated by the author. Small 4to. Cloth. Price, 
$ 1 . 00 . 



The author of “ Dear Daughter Dorothy ” needs no passport to favor. 
That bewitching little story which she not only wrote but illustrated must 
have given the name of A. G. Plympton a notable place among the writers 
of children’s stories. Followed by “Betty, a Butterfly” and now by 
“The Little Sister of Wilifred,” we have a most interesting trio with 
which to adorn a child’s library. — Boston Times. 


Sold by all booksellers j mailed , post-paid, by the pub- 
lishers , 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 




Messrs . Roberts Brothers' Publications. 



By the author of “Dear Daughter Dorothy.” 


Sold by all Booksellers . Mailed by the Publishers on 
receipt of the price . 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 


BETTY, A BUTTERFLY. 

By A. G. PLYMPTOR. 

With, illustrations by the author. 

Square 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. 


AM I NOT FINE ? ” 


Roberts Brothers Juvenile Books . 


Dear Daughter Dorothy. 

BY MISS A. G. PLYMPTON. 

With seven illustrations by the author. Small 4to. Cloth. 


PRICE. $1.00. 



DEAR DAUGHTER DOROTHY. 


“ The child is father of the man.” — so Wordsworth sang ; and here is a joll) 
Story of. a little girl who was her father’s mother in a very real way. There were 
hard lines for him; and she was fruitful of devices to help him along, even hav* 
ing an auction of the pretty things that had been given her from time to time, and 
realizing a neat little sum. Then her father was accused of peculation; and she, 
sweetly ignorant of the ways of justice, went to the judge and labored with him, 
to no effect, though he was wondrous kind. Then in court she gave just the 
wrong evidence, because it showed how poor her father was, and so established a 
presumption of his great necessity and desperation. But the Dens ex machine* 
— the wicked partner — arrived at the right moment, and owned up, and the good 
father was cleared, and little Daughter Dorothy was made glad. But this meagrv 
summary gives but a poor idea of the ins and outs of this charming story, and n< 
uaea of the happy way in which it is told. — Christian Register. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS. Boston. 


















































































































































































































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